


Bring Shivers to the Bone

by peloquine



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Gods of the Arena, Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 19:03:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peloquine/pseuds/peloquine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nasir drags Castus along to a ballet performance. Castus finds himself enthralled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Shivers to the Bone

**Author's Note:**

> For Spartacus Fan Challenges' October prompt.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Castus says as he and Nasir take their seats. For some unfathomable reason Nasir managed to get him to agree to go to the ballet with him. Castus knows next to nothing about ballet, but he has seen it on TV once or twice and it has never seemed like his cup of tea.

“You’ve always been a sucker for my pretty smile,” Nasir says from behind the program booklet.

“I’ll tell Agron about you using your wiles on me,” Castus threatens.

Nasir lowers the booklet to look coolly at him. “I’ve finally convinced him that there are better ways to deal with his jealousy issues than through sulking,” he says, “so go right ahead.”

“Sex?” Castus guesses and Nasir smirks.

“Why don’t you bring _him_ to the ballet?” Castus asks through a sigh.

“I tried once,” Nasir says. “He fell asleep during the first act. And he snores. Loudly.”

“I can’t promise I won’t,” Castus warns.

“You won’t,” Nasir says. “You’ll love it.”

- 

It is, Castus supposes, a beautiful ballet. It’s about a water nymph, Ondine, who falls in love with a mortal man. He loses track of the plot after that because it is not at all like theatre, and also because there is a fucking god on stage. It’s funny that he is supposed to play the mortal guy because he simply cannot be. He moves like something otherworldly, his every movement fluid and graceful to the brink of being gravity-defying. Castus thanks the gods for the way the stage lights illuminates the play of muscle beneath the man’s skin.

He most certainly does not fall asleep.

- 

“So what did you think?” Nasir asks, wrapping his scarf around his neck as they are about to step outside in the cold. “I picked _Ondine_ since it was ocean-themed. Thought you’d like it.”

Castus is still feeling dumstruck. “Like it? Yes, it was good.”

“The costumes were amazing,” Nasir says. “All in all it was a great production, but the costumes were particularly well-made.”

“Yeah,” Castus agrees distractedly as he gets his phone out of his pocket to check the dates for the next _Ondine_ performance.

- 

His name is Auctus Duncan and it takes about an afternoon before Castus has found and watched every Youtube clip there is of him dancing. Repeatedly.

It’s not creepy. People google other people all the time.

- 

There’s only one more performance of _Ondine_ held in New York and the tickets are almost sold-out, but Castus manages to get one in the second row, which means that he has ample opportunity to study Auctus as he dances, moves, glides across the stage. Who knew that statuesque men in sequins totally does it for him?

Afterwards, he follows the flow of the crowd out of the theatre and leans against one of its brick walls, smoking a cigarette, a string of melody from the score playing over and over again in his head like an echo.

“Hi,” a voice says and as he turns he comes face to face with Ondine. Her shimmering make-up is intact but her stage clothes as been exchanged for jeans and a thick sweater.

“Hi,” Castus says. He offers her a cigarette but she shakes her head.

“No, I don’t smoke,” she says. “I just need to go out for some air after every performance. Clean my head.”

“You were very good,” Castus says. She was, what little he actually managed to see of her.

“Gratitude,” she says. She reaches a glove-covered hand out. “I’m Kore.”

“Castus,” he says, shaking it.

“Come on inside,” she says, inclining her head. “We’re having a wrap-party.”

“I should get home,” Castus says. It’s true: it’s late and he should get up early tomorrow morning, try and get some work done.

“You’ll get to meet Palemon,” she says with a smile.

He blows out smoke, silvery-white in the darkness. “What?” he says.

Kore rolls her eyes. “Your eyes were rather fixed during the performance,” she says.

“I thought you couldn’t see the audience from the stage,” Castus grumbles, not denying it. “With the lights and all.”

“We can see the first few roves,” Kore says and takes him by the arm. “Come on.”

Castus stubs out his cigarette and lets her guide him inside.

- 

There’s champagne and music and costumes and fabric that glitters everywhere. People are laughing and talking excitedly, but at the same time there’s a hint of melancholy in the air.

“We’ve just finished our _Ondine_ -tour,” Kore explains, her hand still on his arm. “This was our final performance so we’re all a little bit sad.”

Kore keeps handing him champagne and draining glasses herself and soon they are stumbling slightly, giggling and talking. Castus get to meet to most of the troupe – Kore introducing him as “her biggest fan” – and suddenly he finds himself face to face with Auctus.

“Hi!” Kore says and abandons Castus’ arm to press a kiss against Auctus cheek. “I thought you were bailing out of the party.”

“I tried,” Auctus says, not sounding like he is joking. “Laeta found me.”

“Your loge is not the best of hideaways,” the red-haired woman standing next to Auctus says. “You did very well tonight,” she tells Kore, who blushes and then turns to Castus.

“Castus, this is Auctus, who is a much better dancer than he is a person but still my best friend, and Laeta, our director. Laeta, Auctus – this is Castus. He’s our own special fanboy.”

Castus smiles his most charming smile, which may be a little wobbly since he’s pretty drunk by now. Laeta smiles back, but Auctus just nods.

“Kore,” Laeta says. “Could I speak with you for a moment? I have a project planned for next year that I think you would find very interesting.”

They disappear, arms linked, and Castus is suddenly alone with Auctus. Up close and out of his costume Castus sees that he is older than he first thought, and he looks… more substantial. Less unreal.

“You are a very good dancer,” Castus says, sidling in closer. It is not anything unusual, him losing his head over a good-looking man, and flirting is practically second nature to him.

“Do you ever _not_ flirt?” Nasir had asked him once, amused, when a barista had still been making eyes at Castus thirty minutes after they had ordered and received their drinks.

“What can I see?” he’d replied. “I’m irresistible.”

“I like the way you move,” he tells Auctus with enough heat in his voice to know that it cannot possibly be misinterpreted. Auctus looks startled for half a second before he smiles.

- 

They barely manage to get Castus’ apartment door closed before Castus is pressing Auctus up against it, kissing him, tasting champagne and himself on his tongue. Auctus’ arms are cold, and Castus realises that he didn’t even grab a coat or jacket or anything before they left.

“Bedroom?” Auctus murmurs against his mouth.

Castus drops to his knees. “Take of your shirt,” he says and Auctus complies, dragging his jumper over his head in one quick motion to reveal well-defined abs and smooth skin. Castus mouths his way along the thin trail of hair leading down from his belly-button as he lets his fingers busy themselves with zipper and buttons.

He sucks Auctus off in the hall, looking up to keep his eyes on him throughout, watching the way he writhes beautifully against the dark wood of the door.

- 

It’s light outside when Castus wakes up, which means that it must be rather late in the day already. Auctus wakes soon after, probably disturbed by Castus rolling out from beneath his arm to stretch his muscles, sore from sex and sleep.

“Morning,” Castus mumbles through a wide yawn.

“Morning,” Auctus says. He sits up against the headboard, checks the watch on the nightstand. “I should get going,” he says, but he makes no move to get out of the bed.

“Mhm.” Castus rolls over onto his side. “Or you could stay. I make a mean pancake.”

Auctus looks at him for a long while. “I’m only in New York until the middle of February,” he says. “Then I’m back to touring.”

“That’s two months,” Castus says easily.

“But then I will be gone for four, with only short breaks in between.”

“But you’ll be back eventually?”

Auctus nods. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Castus drags him down on top of him, licking into his mouth, ignoring that they both taste slightly unpleasantly of sleep and stale alcohol.

- 

“Who knows,” Castus says later with a grin, after Auctus has straddled him and brought them both off together with his hand and slow rolls of his hips, and they’re both a sticky, panting mess, Auctus’ mouth hot and wet against the side of his neck, “perhaps I’ve grown tired of you in two months.”

Auctus nips at his neck in reply.

\--- 

Lying half asleep in front of the TV, Castus is not alerted to his boyfriend’s arrival until Auctus is literally on top of him, groaning as he fits his body against Castus’ on the narrow couch.

“Hi,” Castus says quietly and happily, tugging lightly at Auctus’ hair, warmth spreading through him at finally seeing him again.

“Never again,” Auctus says. “We did five performances last week. _Five_. I’m too fucking old for this. I’m going to lie still for a week.”

“Nope,” Castus says, shaking his head. “You’ve been gone for three weeks. We’re having sex right now. Get up.” He tilts Auctus’ head up, kisses him a little off-kilter. “I want to see you move,” he murmurs sweetly in his ear.

Auctus just groans and rolls on top of him to keep him still.


End file.
